Get Your Drabbles Here!
by mirage888
Summary: I've decided I need a single location for the Seddie drabbles that occasionally pour out of my brain. Usually uninvited, too, isn't that rude? Read if you enjoy poetic interpretations!
1. Charades

Our favorite game  
Is child's play:  
_(Charades.)_

It's too hard for us to say  
One sentence, three words:  
_(I love you.)_

We act out one word,  
Six letters:  
_(Friend.)_

And yet the next gesture spells out  
One word, five letters:  
_(Enemy.)_

I should have asked  
One question, four words:  
_(Do you love me?)_

We only needed  
One word, three letters:  
_(Yes.)_


	2. Cold

Cold.

The cold can make a bigger difference than anyone notices. It can be the difference between uncomfortable and cozy. The difference between being smothered and being able to breathe. The difference between friendship and enmity.

The difference between life and death.

She's cold, and she knows it. She lives under a layer of ice, barely thin enough to crack. The cold is who she is, and she can't get warm even when she desperately needs to, even when it hurts to be frozen. She doesn't understand what it will take not to be cold.

Everyone around her is warm. They all radiate heat from themselves, and sometimes, she can almost feel it. But only a few of these people of light have ever tried to melt her. If she tried harder, would she be one of them? Could she?

For now, the cold won't let her.

Yet, there is that tiny hint of a spark somewhere deep within her, the hope she dares not let go of. She knows it is there, it just isn't consistent. She knows why it is there too.

What is it about him? Is it simply his immense warmth that draws the cold away, if only for a moment? How could she, so cold, think of him that way? Would his fire really melt her ice, when he was so inviting and she was so sharp?

Her cold could only drive him away. She is an iceberg, untouchable, and surely he would never have enough power to change her. Just one person.

And still, somehow! She thinks he might one day. So she fans her flame in secret, to melt her from the inside out. It might take a long time.

But she's tired of being cold.


	3. Her Apologies

She always apologized with a kiss.

He was never quite sure why.

* * *

It had all started that fateful night, when she came to him. When they were each other's first kiss, an event so momentous in a young teen's life that it could never be forgotten. She wasn't his first choice, really. And he was doubtful that he was hers. Yet it happened anyway, and how could there be any regrets? Well, perhaps there could be.

An apology accompanied her kiss. She said she would "clean the slate," to paraphrase, every few years. _That _is how he should have known it would be real trouble. That something like that would never be able to be let go quite so easily.

* * *

She kissed him again two years later.

He was trying to be a good friend to her, coming to her much like she had come to him that first time. Why didn't he notice the parallel? Well, it was the farthest thing from his mind. She was supposed to be in love with someone else; he was coming to terms with that and trying to help her be happy. Then she grabbed him with a passion never before experienced by himself.

Yes, there were a thousand thoughts running through his head and yes, he was more befuddled than a toddler with a jigsaw puzzle, but what _really _got him was how she concluded her attack with, "Sorry."

Was that it, then? Another apology? Did she always run around kissing people when she wanted to apologize for something? No, that didn't make any sense at all!

She was in love.

She said it wasn't with someone else.

Yet she was sorry.

Could he expect another kiss in two years, or would it be sooner?

* * *

_(A/N: iOMG random drabble... I just got the idea from someone mentioning the fact that Sam said she would apologize every few years so she could start over again. It intrigued me to think she could pair that with kissing him :)_


	4. He Waits

And every time he says it, he waits for the moment when she'll say it back.

* * *

_"I love you," he whispers to her softly._

* * *

"You mean more to me than anyone else ever has," he confesses, watching for her reaction.

* * *

**"Well, it couldn't be because I love you, could it?" he asks of her bitterly.**

* * *

_"Dammit, can't you see I'm in love with you?" he yells at her._

* * *

"I will say it until I die, if I have to," he breathes.

She stares, the picture of a thousand emotions. "I... love you too."

* * *

_(A/N: I'm sorry. I don't even know what that was, other than crap. Continue on with your day!)_


	5. Exclusive

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, slightly confused. She glared as he nonchalantly put his books back in his locker.

"You know what I'm talking about! How can you let that- that _skunkbag _hang all over you?" she asked, trying to keep her cool.

A smug look crossed his face. "Oho. I see what this is about. Hmmm, could someone be... jealous? Because you know, you're-" He didn't get to finish that thought, because suddenly he found himself being dragged (by her) into the nearest custodian's closet.

"Listen to me, _Benson. _No one accuses mama of feeling things she hasn't said so herself. So just keep that thought in your overly-combed nub head, and we'll move on with our lives. Andshe'sterribleforyouanyway."

He tilted his head towards her, although they were already rather close in the cramped space. "What was that last part?"

She smacked his arm. "You know what I SAID."

He snickered, and then sighed. "You were the one who came up with this idea."

"No I didn't!" she huffed.

"Yes, you did! I remember distinctly hearing you say, 'Maybe we shouldn't be so exclusive.'"

"I said I didn't want to be _exclusive, _not that I wanted to go find the nearest, easiest, most well-known for being a-"

"Okay!" he cut her off. "Just because Rebecca's reputation is a little, uh... well, she's a perfectly nice girl!" he concluded stubbornly.

"I don't like her," she mumbled, not meeting his gaze.

He watched her for a moment, taking in the body language that he for so long could not interpret. Placing a hand on her arm, he said softly, "Look. This is clearly not going to work out. I know what we said, but... it's not for the best. I think we need to end this thing, for both of our sakes."

She looked up at him, eyes flashing with a mixture of confusion and anger. "You mean that...?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna go dump Rebecca as soon as we get out of this closet. Which might not be for a while if I can help it." He looked smug again, but the expression on his face soon changed when he was punched in the stomach by his moodier counterpart.

"You _loser! _For a second you made me think that- uggghh! Now you're gonna get it _good_." She grabbed his head, and he cringed, waiting for the inevitable injury. Instead, she pulled him in for one of her best, passionate kisses, which he was so relieved wasn't another punch that he reciprocated eagerly.

When they broke apart, he grinned at her. "How do you always catch me off guard like that?"

She shrugged. "What can I say? Mama's unpredictable."

"Do you think you can be a little more unpredictable?" he asked somewhat sheepishly.

"Only if you close your eyes."

About fifteen minutes later, they emerged to an empty hallway; him taking her hand, and her barely resisting.

"Sooo," he began. "Does this mean we're _exclusive _now?"

She flicked his wrist with her unheld hand. "Depends. There was this one basketballer I had my eye on..."

"And Rebecca hasn't been officially dumped yet," he countered.

She smiled grimly. "Then exclusive, we are."

* * *

_(A/N: This was a tiny oneshot that popped into my head while I was thinking about Sam and Freddie dating [a completely squee-worthy thing to be thinking about. WE'RE SO CLOSE! :D]. I hope it's gotten you excited for their amazing potential.)_


	6. The Sound of You and I

** thesoundofyouandi**

They don't h e a r their _perfectsweetharmony; _they don't need to.

They can't h e a r the _cacophous,clashingthunderstorm _that they appear to be; it is inside them.

It's _livingandbreathing _she says and it's _learningandloving _he says but it doesn'tmatter doesn'tmatter because they both want the same thing anyway and it will always be _secretdreamscometrue _and _mysteriesunfolded _to them.

There is noise and there is s i l e n c e but they will always be **them **and they will never be **anyone else **and they will never want **anyone else **even if that seems _stupidcrazyridiculous _because they are sosoyoung. Their symphony has never _madesense_ to the **sensible **world.

Why are they

What are they

Who are they

They don't care about anything

Anything but the **fire **and the i c e and the _waytheyworkbutshouldn't. _And it is and they are_ foreverforever_ indescribably nothing but magic to one another.

* * *

_(A/N: Dedicated to _chasingafterstarlight _who is much better at these than I am! I'm sorry if this was terrible, it was my first time making anything like this. I really just did it to get myself back in the inspired Seddie-writing game. Reviews are nice, but not necessary. The title is from a song by the band _Seabird_.)_


End file.
